


This World and the Next

by AhnakaSkyle, LupinePhoenix



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aliens, Allurance (one sided for a few chapters), Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, Immortals in Space, Lotura - Freeform, Lotura NSFW, One-Sided Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Pining Allura (Voltron), Pining Lotor (Voltron), Plance - water them, Purple Space Royals, Sex, Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), Unrequited Hate, implied shallura
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AhnakaSkyle/pseuds/AhnakaSkyle, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupinePhoenix/pseuds/LupinePhoenix
Summary: Lotor and Allura are together again. Bitterness, hurt, and anger. But one cannot deny being simply meant to stay with a soul. Lotor knows he still loves her. Allura can't think straight around him. They travel different worlds, and they come to find that together, it's destiny. In this world and the next.A rewritten version of Simply Meant by LupinePhoenix! (With permission!!)





	1. Timelines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LupinePhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupinePhoenix/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Simply Meant](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13897479) by [LupinePhoenix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LupinePhoenix/pseuds/LupinePhoenix). 



> A bit of backstory: the gangs all here. Lotor hasn't been confirmed back, so I left him just being there. They're trying to fight against Haggar. It starts off randomly. Be prepared to be flung into a scene!

Allura walked onto the bridge, already bored with whatever she had to deal with.  _So help me, someone will be murdered if it’s another dispute over which side of the holoscreen they get to see on_ , she thought.  _If I have to go to another meeting like_ _ **that**_ _this week I swear…._

“Princess! You finally made it,” a familiar voice said to her. She attempted to smile at him. He really needed it more than her. Her guardian figure twists his mustache excitedly. He stood tall, straightening his back more now that she was near.

Lance, Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk all stood around the bridge, mostly near the holograms. Pidge was doing her math on one. Allura went to stand by her friend, who was currently absorbed by data.

_Coran,_ she thought.  _At least he’s happy._ “We’re going to go over our plan to…” She shut him out, letting him and Shiro drone on about a plan. She wasn’t happy today. Not when she had to deal with  _him_.

“…seems reasonable. Don’t you think, Princess?” someone asked behind her. A voice she tried to hate. She blinked at his lavender face, looking at him. They were still on bad terms from the rift incident.

She turns to face him, folding her arms. She had lost her crown, her title, and her trust for him. He glared somewhat, though his gaze was filled with more regret than bitterness. His hair a mess, claws out. She tried her best not to visibly shiver.

“I’m sorry, what?” she asked, shaking her head. The way she says it was slightly rude, causing the room to freeze up. Lotor hugs himself, looking to the floor. “What did you say?” She tried to keep her tone level. Another unnecessary fight wouldn’t be healthy for this team.

He repeats it, and she nods. “Sorry, I’ve been a little out of it, today.” She looks to the floor. “But yes, that plan does seem reasonable. Just as long as you don’t have any control over the mission.”

“It’s fine, Allura,” he sighs. “I found that staying behind would keep you all safe, anyway. I’m not so sure that the rest of the empire would much want to see me on a planet with the sole belief that love is the only way of life.” She was sure it was meant to be a joke, but it didn’t feel like it. In fact, the words hung in the air like a weight on a string.

“Good call,” Keith, who had stepped onto the deck, said distastefully. “You've caused enough trouble, Lotor.”

“Believe me, Keith, I know. You don’t need to remind me of how my father’s _greatest shame_ caused more damage in a few pheobs than he did over centuries!” Lotor snapped, the brittle feeling in the room breaking along with his cool. His pupils were snake slits. Allura covered her mouth to stifle a itty-bitty gasp. Keith stepped back.

No one knew what to say about that sudden burst — well, except for Romelle of course. “Maybe it’s a sign,” she spat. Lotor froze up. He steps over to the blond girl. Allura steps in between. Stars, this morning was full of so much hate!

“You need to calm down.” She held her arms in a T shape between the two of them. She closed her eyes. “We need to make peace with each other before we can even step foot on Planet Aeirean!”

“What wise words to come out of the mouth of a harbinger of violence and hurt,” he whispered, his voice laced with poison. They hurt. She clenched her jaw. He stares intently into her eyes. She saw the bubbling hatred for her, for all Alteans in his soul. Not just for her and Romelle and Coran — for himself, too.

“Maybe it would have been different if you weren’t Zarkon’s son,” she said back, just as quiet. If he wasn’t her father’s murderer, if he wasn’t Galra, if he wasn’t manipulative. If he was from a different world. If Lotor was anything but the man he was right now. Because then? He couldn’t hurt her.

“Or maybe if I hadn’t existed at all?” Like he had just read her mind, he searches her eyes more. She hadn’t realized he had already been doing it. He stepped closer to her. Allura felt her heart swell and drop. Lance walks over to the dangerous two.

“Get away from her, ’kay?” he barked, swinging his bayard and waving in the Prince’s face. “She DUMPED you! Move on!” The whole moment seemed to be layering more irritation on everybody. Allura’s chest compacts.

What a lovely way to start off the morning! Not.

“Guys! Guys, cool off. It’s been months since we’ve _all_ been in the same room, but we NEED to work together,” Hunk starts, getting desperate. “We…We just need to work this out! Right?” He clasped his hands together and smiled weakly at the pissed off royals and annoyed paladins.

But after a second or two, they stepped back. All of them. Hunk sighs, grateful. Allura furrowed her brow. She looks at Lotor, again. His eyes flickered around the room, restless. Why had He reacted to Keith’s words? He was always calm and collected. But he shouted when he was blamed for hurting someone. He got irritable when he was afraid, and when he was afraid, he was usually vulnerable. He hated that.

How did she know that, anyhow? That shook her.

“You’re right,” Shiro said. “Good job, Hunk. Allura, can I talk to you? In the hall?” He sets his hand on her shoulder. She swallows and nods. He probably wanted to talk about the upcoming mission.

“Wait,” someone else said abruptly. Allura turned, shocked slightly.

“My actions were uncalled for,” Lotor announced. They stare. “It was rude and unnecessary to cause such problems.” He bowed, his messy locks and wild eyes apologetic. Handsome. Allura gapes. He hadn’t done something like that in five deca-phoebs….

He leaves. Romelle shakes her head. “Always needy for attention.” But Allura didn’t quite care much. That was a different Lotor.

What was going on?

* * *

 

What was going on? What was he doing wrong? Why, why, why did he explode? What was that back there? A million questions ran into his mind. Then out of it. Then back in. All circling back to Keith’s comment and when the Sincline/Voltron battle happened. When he tried to kill the only person he had ever truly cared for.

He was hopeless. She was going to die if he ever truly lost his temper, now. Four years in the Rift does things to one’s mind. Things that he didn’t want to know the extremity of.

Things Allura was even the center of.

“Keep it together,” he tells himself. “The Seumeurto will send the list of who they want on their planet, and all will be as it should be!” He paced the room he was occupying very worriedly. Back, forth, back, forth. Sooner or later, it would wear. The floor, that is, if his shoes didn’t first.

To be honest, Lotor had stopped wearing his armor about seven pheobs ago, almost a deca-phoeb. He had exchanged it for one of Hunk’s nightshirts, a deep green one. It fit him like a glove, his pants the same ones that belonged to his princeps outfit. Just without the jet thrusters at his calves, the belt, and the skirt-thing. (Not even he knew what it was called.)

His hair was the same length, but with a center parting instead of going all the way back. His forelock didn’t move, but it did split. His appearance? Change was what life was all about.

He nibbled on his index finger’s claw. Any moment….

And….

His gauntlet beeped. He felt blood drain from his face. “That wasn’t supposed to happen….”

* * *

 

**cliffhanger…?**


	2. Grin and Bear It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor revealed the list. Allura wants to die.

Dinner was hell. Lance and Pidge were fighting, Keith was debating on how to wield a knife with Coran, and Shiro and Allura were nowhere to be found. Lotor wiped his face. Allura was going to throw him across the room again once she caught sight of who she was paired with. It shouldn’t have been possible. He was supposed to stay behind. But apparently, the Seumeurto could sense his heart, how much it ached when she looked at him, the way she.... It didn’t matter. She was happy, now, anyway. Allura did  _ not  _ need him. He didn’t need her! They were perfectly fine without the other. He was practically pulling his hair out by its roots just thinking about it.

He had hoped she would get over what he was, what he did, and focused more on  _ who  _ he was. More than a Galra — a man. More than a prince — someone she could trust. More than an ally — a friend. More than a murderer.... But such a wish was ridiculous. He could never be more in her eyes. There was always the desire to be more. Always, always.

And he could never change the fact they would always be less.

Allura and Shiro ran into the room, both sweaty and messy. What had they been up to? Lotor felt his heart swell with jealousy. He looked down at his plate with distaste.

“Sorry we’re late,” Allura said, tucking hair behind her ear and sitting down with a loud huff. Next to Lotor.... He swallowed thickly. For being accused of not existing, his heart was sure beating rather harshly against his ribs.

“Training,” Shiro said. “In case we need it for the mission.” He grabbed some food, crossing his legs. Lotor rolled his eyes. Anyone could tell he, too, fancied the princess. He caught that shared smile.

“Yes!” she confirmed. Swollen lips? His pressed into a line. He knew what they did, he could practically see it in his head. And it was horrifying. He supposed it was somewhat his fault, this jealousy. He did such unforgivable things to Allura.

Coran looks at the two, twisting his mustache curiously. Couldn’t the old man see what Lotor could? “Have either of you received the away mission list?” he asked them. Allura shook her head.

“Lotor was supposed to receive that,” she informed him. “Why?” Her eyebrows creased as she folded her hands. Coran went on to explain how since they were going to the planet in three days, it would be necessary or whatever.

“So,  _ have _ you gotten the list, Lotor?” Pidge asked. She mimicked Allura’s facial expression, but it was more thoughtful than the princess’s.

“Yes,” he says, finally looking up. “Not all of us are going to planet Aierean. The Seumeurto requested at least one male per female, each assigning an away-team member a partner, it seemed.”

“The Seumeurto assigned us partners before we could arrive,” she repeated. “How many of us are going?” She arched an eyebrow, maybe worried. But it wasn’t about who she would be paired with. It was more about how he was holding up. It was his turn to feel confused. He was bad with most emotions, how to handle them, anyway. He could usually read the negative ones. He was confused when there was a kind emotion. After all, who would want to give  _ him _ kindness?

“Six,” he said. “But there was a slight mix-up with Keith and Shiro. They’ll be partnered the entire time.” He hid his smirk and glanced at the blushing boys. He had lied; it wasn’t a mix-up. The Seumeurto could sense potential matches, their planet’s beliefs solely on love. That made him nervous and his stomach hurting.

Allura seemed to relax a bit. “Oh, thank goodness. Nothing positive would have come from being partnered with Keith. But what about Hunk, Pidge, and Lance?”

“Hunk has been asked to stay behind,” he said, looking apologetic. “I tried to convince them otherwise, but they just wouldn’t listen. Not to mention Coran wanted to stay and keep tabs on us.”

“Who am I partnered with?” she asked him, folding her arms. “Pidge?”

“No, actually,” he said softly, crossing his arms as well. He stepped a bit closer, showing her the list. Her eyes widened, a small blush growing on her cheeks. “ _ I’m _ partnered with you.”

“You?” she asked, a humorless laugh erupting from her mouth. “That can’t be right....” He felt something deflate, but his smile didn’t quite waver. She didn’t look  _ entirely _ disappointed. “Lance is with Pidge, then?”

He nods, rigid from her attitude. “I didn’t even get the list until this morning. I can’t change it whatsoever. Believe me, princess, I did try to.” She took his arm and looked over the list.

“I can’t believe it,” she mumbled. “Why are  _ you _ paired with me?” He waited for her to finish rechecking the list for the millionth time to pull his hand away. It’s not like scrolling up and down could somehow change what the residents of the planet they were about to visit had asked for.

“You’ll have to ask the Seumeurto, princess.” He sighed, wiping his face ever so slightly. “I suppose we’ll just have to get along for...six days.” The reality dawned on both of them, it seemed. Almost an entire movement.

“We haven’t seen eye to eye for five deca-pheobs and now we have to stand next to each other every second of a workday for an entire movement,” Allura groaned. When they were in a large-roomed setting like this, they were able to be diplomats. But  _ alone _ ? One of them was bound to do something stupid. Or possibly both.

“You make it sound easier than it has been,” he grumbled, resting his head on his fist. “Now I have to pull out that blasted Galra Princeps armor.” He swore he saw not only Allura’s face darken, but Romelle’s too. He didn’t want to even ask about that. “What? What’s wrong with my armor?”

“NOTHING,” both Altean women chorused. Allura stood up. She looked to Romelle and sighed.

“I have to go do something, really quick, if you’ll excuse me.”

* * *

 

 _Lotor_? she thought. _That_ _can’t_ _be_ _right_. She huffed but let herself smile as she put on her paladin armor. _But it doesn’t stop my heart from jumping._ Lotor was supposed to be the one to stay behind. She was supposed to be going with someone else — anyone else! Not... _Lotor_!

She was putting on her Paladin spandex. Why not go out for a drive in Blue? Just to completely get him out of her mind again, like she did every time. Since he had been back, she had been finding it even harder to focus on actually trying to fix the power vacuum than nitpick or cry over all the wrong he did. The truth was, she was as much to blame as he was.

Going to a planet that could spread love? That seemed to be a good first step with actually achieving full-on contact with a government. 

The Seumeurto were very interesting people. They didn’t do anything unless if it could be considered an act of love. She found that interesting. She laughed to herself as she finished her suit.

She turned, freezing when she heard the door open. Of course. Lotor took flights in his pod when he was upset. And today had been a very, very long day for him. She clenched her jaw and stifled a groan.

“What’s so funny?” he said behind her. She turned around, about ready to flick one of his long, purple ears. He had thoughtful eyes, but the bitterness remained. It was beginning to be a regular thing to see in his deep indigos.

“That you think we’ll enjoy this,” she said. “I hate you, you know.”

“I know.” He was leaning on the doorway, arms and ankles crossed. He seemed tired, his lips pursed and his eyes half-lidded.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. He was definitely...attractive like that. Interesting. But that didn’t mean that she had to enjoy this little mission. With him.

“No reason, princess.” There was a reason. She could tell, and it grated at her. “But I think you might enjoy what the Seumeurto have planned for each pair. We could finally get away from each other after the first ten minutes.”

Oh. Well, maybe there would be a moment she would enjoy this trip.... “What have they planned for us?” she asked slowly. She crossed her arms and tilted her head. Knowing Lotor, and certainly knowing the Seumeurto, it was probably something oddly regal.

He stood up straight and bit his lip with a fang, walking over to her. “We’ve been put in charge of the ball they’re hosting in our favor. So we have to have the first dance.”

That shocked her. “ _ What _ ?” she yelped. “A-All of us, or—?”

“Us two,” he said like it was a bad tasting food. She had to agree with him. “Since we’re royal, and we represent both sides of the war, we’ve been asked to start the ball with a dance to show how much this change means to us.”

“That’s...poetic.” She sighs. “Is everything about these people related to passion?”

“Apparently. And they are  _ really  _ big on poetry, Allura. You might want to take that in mind.” He laughs softly. “I was thinking of winning the king over with a poetry album of my own.”

Lotor writes poetry? When was that a thing? She puffed her cheeks as she turned around and grabs her armor. “I didn’t know that you  _ wrote _ much less  _ drew _ , Lotor.” She remembered seeing him drop a sketch somewhere in the hall about seven pheobs ago.

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” he spat. She flushed. Of course he would be touchy about something like that. He sighs, running his hand through his hair. Brushing it back to how it was before. She had flashbacks to when she and he shared that kiss when they were building Sincline.

“You’re right. Just as you don’t know everything about me, either.”

“I think, Princess, we can deal with knowing even less,” he growled. He passed her, grabbing the spare space suit. It was almost like he didn’t want to touch anything that was Galra, other than Keith and Krolia. He certainly didn’t want to be near anything authentically Altean, anymore, either. He just...seemed to want to start over as something new.

And that was more frightening to her than when he almost killed her.


	3. Flow

He didn’t know what came over him. He didn’t even know how that conversation turned into a fight. He just wanted to take a flight to cool down from dinner, not bicker with her. He put on the Earthen helmet, his mind swirling with thoughts and theories.

_I shouldn’t have even gone to get my pod,_ he thinks. _I should have known she would have gone out, too._ He tied his hair back as he put it in his helm.

He watches her silently as she finishes up her Paladin armor, grabbing her Bayard. He had always admired her fighting skills, her flight. It took a lot out of him to even look at her for short periods of time, now, even though in the past he could gaze at her for what felt like forever. But back then, they trusted each other, found each other’s company enjoyable. Back when they were in love.

‘Love.’ There was that word again. Something he didn’t really know the meaning of until he met her. She taught him many things about care, love, selflessness...and betrayal. The soft way her lips felt instructed him how to be gentle. Her small hands guided him to try to be empathetic. How he missed holding her in her arms! But he wanted to avoid it just as much. He scoffed aloud as she climbed into her Lion.

“If only I had let the Alteans die,” he mumbled sarcastically. “She would for sure have married me by now.” He sat back in the pilots’ seat. Truth be told, he was sure that Slav, who had come to visit them briefly, would even say the possibility of ever having a permanent relationship with Allura was nonexistent. He sighs, powering up his spacecraft. If it was impossible, though, why did he want it?

It was really a contradiction. Everything about him was, actually. A prince without power. A true love’s kiss without the happy ending. A redemption but no forgiveness. The most persuasive man in the galaxy though not a soul trusted his words. Was there anything that _wasn’t_ destined to be destroyed by his good intentions?

“Alright...Veldep Prime II’s moon seems to be a suitable route,” he mumbled, setting in the coordinates. Talking to himself helped sooth his frustrations, sorrows, and self-doubts. Making logs is what it was. He never allowed any of Team Voltron to go inside his ship because of them.

The other Paladins called him obsessive of the ship. Shiro said it might have been an Earth disease: ‘PTSD.’ Neither of those was correct.

He sat in the quiet of the void, deciding that, instead of making one, he would listen to a log. His hesitant hand reached for the _playback_ button, almost pulling back from it. He definitely was not in the mood to listen to the sobs he had first recorded after being rescued from the Rift.

_Better face it now than to never face it at all,_ he thinks. He pressed it.

_“Princep’s log. Date: Second movement of the eighth phoeb. I...I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to record before Allu—er, the Paladins_ _decide to follow me.”_ The recording choked. _“It’s been a week since I’ve been taken out of the Rift. Apparently, I have been missing for over four deca-phoebs.”_ A heavy, shaky sigh. Lotor could feel the fright creep back up his spine. He vividly remembered making this. He pressed the _skip_ label.

_“Princep’s log—”_ Lotor skipped that one, too. The tears in that log were of heartbreak. He wasn’t prepared to listen to that. In fact, he skipped until the next month.

_“Pilot’s log. Date: First day of the ninth phoeb. I should really stop saying ‘princep's’, shouldn’t I? I’m basically stripped of power. Allura practically accused me of drinking the blood of anyone who looked at me. The nerve of her,”_ his voice growls. _“I’m sick of being her punching bag. It doesn’t matter whatsoever if she pulled me out of that Ri...R.... She put me in it. The Paladins just support her decision. Traitors, that’s what the lot of them are.”_

_“She’s still unbearable to be around. I can’t tell if I feel genuine hate toward her, or if I’m just bitter. Perhaps another few weeks will reveal what it truly is?”_ Lotor laughed quietly. He was glad it was just bitterness. He couldn’t truly hate Allura, though he tried. _“This blasted machine better remind me to dispose of this log. It’s rubbish.”_ A heavy sigh and the log cut off.

The next log, however, he didn’t quite remember listening to. It was more or less background noise. He did remember one line, though: _“...After Allura and the rest are through with me, I’ve been deciding on whether or not to admit my feelings to Allura, whether or not she wants to accept them. She deserves my honesty, no matter if I don’t like it.”_

Lotor felt a lump in his throat at that. She did deserve some kind of hint. Perhaps he could give one this movement. He was going to have to. Who knew how long they could afford to keep him? He altered course, back to their vessel.

* * *

Allura docked, almost in time with him. That pissed her off, just the slightest. Was he around every corner she turned to?

She was already sick of bickering, seeing his glare, his attitude. She missed the old Lotor. She missed how he managed to sweep her off her feet and just manage to make her think that he was all that mattered in that dobash or even that Varga. Even if he was a liar.

Lotor wasn’t so much of a liar, now. He didn’t hide his feels, he admitted to being upset. But it was easier to see how much he really despised her now than before. It didn’t matter. The feeling was actually mutual, despite his fit physical appearance, his velvet voice, soft lips....

“Stop it,” Allura chided herself under her breath. “Why are you always lured to the ones you know will hurt you?” She walked out of Blue slowly, trying to calm down the tightness in her chest that Lotor had previously caused about two Vargas ago. Just bumping into him caused her lungs to retract.

He walked out, too, letting his hair spill from his helmet. She watched as he slipped off the orange space suit, his muscles rippling. Her face grew hot. His fangs were out, again, as well as his claws. One fang rested and chewed on his lips. She remembered how she felt when—

That was enough. She didn’t need to get worked up over someone who didn’t need her anymore. She looks away, and walks straight to her room, not bothering to talk her armor off.

* * *

She tried her best to avoid him for the next Varga and a half, worried about what he would think about her dread for the mission. What would she think about his dread? He would never be able to make peace—all he did was cause it.

_“She'll hate me even more for thinking that of myself. But I know how she feels about Galra,”_ she remembered him telling Coran. That old man.... Allura knew that he didn’t like Lotor because of what he did, but the ancient Altean was always quick to forgive someone who was willing to show their face and admit their mistakes. _“I know she won’t ever accept my feelings, but it doesn’t stop me from having them.”_

She knew that over the past deca-phoeb, his romantic feelings had turned into hatred. It didn’t bother her, though. It was easy to reciprocate _those_ feelings.

He arrived in the docking bay, a helmet in hand. She hadn’t talked to anyone about Lotor and certainly didn’t talk to people when he was around. She didn’t want to get upset. He’d made her mad enough, already.

Coran came up to her when she reached the pod. “You ready?” Allura nodded, not feeling like she could speak. Coran beams. “You’ll need to stand next to Lotor. The Seumeurto have a special rule that you can’t be more than ten yards away from your partner. They call them _soerumito_ , which translates roughly into _soulmates_. A little funny that it would sound very close to their society’s name!” Coran chuckled. “Of course, it’s just a myth. I think”

“Of course,” Lotor said quietly. He had walked up next to the other Alteans almost silently. Allura froze up when she realized where he was. He thanked Coran before looking around as if he was nervous.

He stood next to her silently, not daring to look her in the face. Coran went over instructions, shouting in his high pitched voice. _Focus, focus, focus,_ she thought.

Something brushed against her hand. She ignored it. It happened again. Yet she ignored it. Finally, when the brush happened the third time, she grabbed ahold of whatever was doing that and held it firm. Fingers laced into hers. She looked up at him. He mouthed, “You’re biting your lip. Are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” she whispered harshly, pulling her hand away. Romantic feelings in the past or no, she wasn’t going to be holding his hand! What a joke.

He turned his head back, but the look he gave her before he did so said _Yeah, sure. Like I don’t know you at_ allllll.

“Alright! Do you all have everything you need?” Coran asked. Each group nods and shows the old Altean their supplies. Allura was rather reluctant with hers. Old poems about (gag) Lotor’s eyes. He arched a brow.

“It’s for the Seumeurto,” she groaned, kind of nervous Lotor would see them. It didn’t matter, really, since the poems were now five or six deca-phoebs old, but she didn’t want to give that _Galra_ the satisfaction of knowing he once filled her head.

“Well, then, if that’s just it and it _isn’t_ for L—”

“CORAN.”

“Okay, okay. Just go. And no fighting! It isn’t fit for a princess,” he says, hugging her tightly. She smiled.

“It’ll be okay, Coran. I have Lance, Keith, Shiro, and Pidge with me.” Purposely leaving out Lotor? Check. Making him feel like garbage? Almost check. Destroying those poems? Unmarked.

As they boarded Blue, there was one thing stuck in her mind that she knew for sure: _This is going to be a long week._


	4. "Do You Have a Knife?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lotor finally realizes how much he can't stand being alone with Allura.

The ride in Blue was quiet. Tense. You could set something in the air with the gravity force active and still see it float the air was so thick. Neither looked at each other, neither spoke. Just...stared out the window.

_ I wonder how she feels about being alone like this,  _ Lotor had thought.  _ This silence.... It’s deafening.  _ He checks statistics. Scanned for threats. Listened to the small beeps from around the cockpit, the tiny ones that made his ears twitch back. But that made the non-verbal-ness of the situation even worse to handle for him.

She would often look back at him, biting her lip. Why was she so nervous? They had done so many intimate things in the past,  _ with her begging for all of it. _ His eyes crossed and shut at just thinking about how lovely she was before. All that they did. Especially with the Quintessence high....

The tingling sensation of her fingers on his arms. The taste of her tongue, her silken hair in his hands. The ecstasy of the whole moment of intimacy was nothing like he had ever experienced. (Which was saying something; being ten thousand years old definitely left room for coupling multiple times.) Her small whimpers...such a turn on.

_ “Please...please,”  _ she repeated over and over as he teased her. He loved taking in her beauty, making her feel loved as well. Her cries were his drug. He felt a rumble in his throat as he let out a soft noise at the memory.

“Are you okay?” Allura asked him. He flushed, opening his eyes. She finally looked back at him, her eyebrows knitted together. His eyes widened as he realized what he had just done aloud.  _ He moaned. _

“Yes, why?” he said, somewhat defensive. His face was hot. His heart beat loudly. His hands had become sweaty, and there was a possibility that if he had thought of that day any more, he’d have a very visible problem. He couldn’t tell her what he was thinking about. She didn’t need to know about his sexual fantasies, much less if they were about her.

“You made a very strange noise. And your face is a deep purple.” She arched a brow, her lips pursed. It was like she knew that Lotor was making excuses. He was sure that for as many times he’s been accused of lying, he really wasn’t good at it. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“I’m positive, Allura. I’m quite all right,” he sniffed, turning his head. “You don’t need to waste worry on me.” That sounded rude. Oops. He looked away, folding his arms. “Besides, we’ve arrived.”

“We have, haven’t we?” She glares at him, checking the console. She makes proper arrangements. At least, he thinks; he stopped looking in her direction. If he did, he would keep thinking about the day when everything was perfect. Just the way it was supposed to be. At least until Romelle showed up.

Lotor knew how much Allura missed her home. Though he was not alive to witness the planet’s glory, he had spent his life studying it. He no longer felt the need to connect with his Altean heritage, and he didn’t want to be a part of the Galra side, either. Not after his father, nor his mother, nor after even the princess herself. It didn’t matter who he loved, after all. He had committed sins. He had learned the hard way from the Paladins that not everyone can be forgiven.

Especially if they are related to murderers.  _ Perhaps blame falls onto descendants in their culture,  _ he used to think.  _ If they are doing the right thing, it must be it. _ But as he had come to learn, that wasn’t as true as he had hoped to believe.

 

“Lotor, could you please not—” Allura sighs, standing up. “Stop.”

“Stop  _ what _ ?” he asked, holding his arms out, then letting them fall. Whatever he was doing, he didn’t know. “I’m not doing anything, Princess.” He fixed his chest plate. They were getting ready before they landed on the planet. First impressions were everything; both of them knew that more than anyone else.

“Just stop sulking!” she exclaimed, putting her hair up into a ponytail. He tried not to stare. That was certainly new. “We need to act as professional as possible; we need this meeting to go well,” she said. She grabs her Bayard and his hand. He knew it was entirely for the sake of appearances, but it didn’t stop him from feeling fuzzy and nauseous. “You’ve been staring out the window for such a long time, I’m worried you’re going to collapse.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, looking down at his armor.  _ Princeps  _ rang through his ear. A title he had been assigned but was told he couldn’t have it. What was the use of being a prince if you weren’t really? Ridiculous. “Why would you be worried for me? The only reason I’m here is to appease the Seumeurto.”

“I may not be able to stand you, Lotor, but one can’t just forget old feelings entirely. I’m still worried about your well-being. To some extent.” She huffs. “Are you ready to go out and face them?”

“Of course not,” he whispered, his entire body feeling rigid. “I have no idea what to expect. You know I hate that.” For a second, it seemed like they had a connection. They didn’t need to force themselves to be engaged in the same moment equally.

It had happened once before.

She hides her smile, he catches. It wasn’t supposed to be a joke, but he did suppose it was funny. He hides his own, too. He remembers how infectious her smile was. He did miss her, but now was not the time to see if they could rekindle a fire she put out and he had sparked.

His fire was still smoking, still burning. But hers had a few glowing coals, just about to die out. He thought about trying every day, of course, but the tender to that fire had refused. Who was he to say that she was supposed to be his (again)? She had made her decision, and he had to respect that.

“Well,” Allura whispered, “try to be.” He nodded. Right, as always.

“Are  _ you  _ ready?” he asked, quite sure she was going to answer with a ‘yes.’ She takes a deep breath before responding.

“No. No, I’m not ready, either. If you were to ask me five deca-phoebs ago, I would have said yes. But this planet knows something about love. Perhaps they can sense our past connection?” he mused, feeling the urge to tap his chin.

“Either that or they sense a present one,” he said, hearing the slight accusation in his own voice. She glared at him. Of course, there wouldn’t be, but couldn’t a boy have his own fun?

“There is no  _ present connection _ . You’re lucky I’m even bringing you along!” She laughs some. He rolls his eyes, not sure if he should be mad or laugh, too. But something else stirs in him. Something different, something new but achingly familiar.

“You’re right, as always,” he said, his tone friendly. She chokes on spit. 

“You didn’t just—?”

“I did.”

She growls some. “Let’s just go. And no complimenting me.”


End file.
